While HHFM drove us to the site of our next pee adventure, I kept drinking water from a gallon jug we'd brought with us just for the occasion. Our next stop: A huge, mostly outdoor but covered flea market he looks forward to visiting each time he comes to see me. We were sure we'd find plenty of ideal pee spots all over that place. It's usually pretty crowded, so we'd have the added thrill of getting away with our naughty deeds while any number of unsuspecting people might catch us in the act. I must credit HHFM with our new motto: "No place is safe from us."
My panties had dried quickly as we drove along on that beautiful 80-degree day with all the car windows open, so I'd hoped to "mark" the parking lot just to get them wet again. But I wasn't quite ready, so we started maneuvering up and down the lengthy aisles while my bladder pressure built. The place was more crowded than I thought, and I was fast losing my nerve. There really was no place even partially secluded. Anywhere I chose to pee, I would be seen wetting myself. I couldn't do it THAT publicly, I told HHFM. His response: "Let's see if you're all woman or all talk. You ARE going to pee here. We are not leaving until I get to slide my hand up underneath that "flippy" skirt and feel those wet panties again." No wonder I love this man.
We walked and walked, browsing at all the booths while my need to pee built. Ever watchful for a pee spot, we kept "coming up dry." By now, I was bursting. Squirming as we walked, I told HHFM that I'd better give in and find a real bathroom. "No way am I letting you anywhere near a real bathroom," was his exciting and stimulating response.
Before long, I was holding the business end of my purse in front of my pussy so I could press it against my crotch to stem the tide that was sure to break loose any minute. My pee was so close to the surface I could taste it. And I was surrounded by people, none of whom seemed to notice that I now hand my hand shamelessly pressing against my crotch because I was about to explode. "Do you want me to pee my panties right here in front of all these people," I asked, knowing full well what he'd say. "Yes, I do," he replied, "but first I have to make a phone call." He'd spotted a pay phone in a little alcove just a few feet from the throng of shoppers. I couldn't imagine who he'd be calling, but I didn't care because I had to pee so badly. As we hurried over to the phone, I could feel those first few drops making their way into my panties as I desperately tried to postpone the ecstasy of blessed relief.
That sweet man motioned to me to stand against the wall next to the phone while he pretended to make a call. Into the receiver he said, "Pee for me, darling," and I let loose. Pee gushed straight to the concrete noisily and swirled around his shoes. He stood firm, enjoying standing midstream and watching relief flood my face as warm pee flooded the ground. Amazingly only a few kids stopped and stared, but at that point, I couldn't have cared less. While I was still peeing a river, HHFM walked around behind me and slid his hand right up against my pussy, cupping my pee in his hand and quickly bringing me to orgasm. I was beyond noticing who was noticing. My ecstasy knew no bounds. Drained, I turned to face him while we kissed deeply and fervently. I rubbed my drenched pussy up against his hard dick while we told each other we were meant to be together always. But we still had much more of the flea market to pee, er, peruse, so always would have to wait...
Pee in peace,
No comments:
Post a Comment